Aubrey stared at the screen with wide eyes and a slightly open mouth. The words "psychic vampire" stood out in particular. She brushed her tongue across the tips of her fangs.
Yeah... That... sounds about right.
The knowledge settled within her, a missing puzzle piece clicking into place. That sensation from earlier, the way she had somehow latched onto those men's feelings of terror—that must have been it.
And if that were true...
Her eyes wandered to the scar-faced man. Hunger rumbled not just in her stomach, but across her entire body. She felt her senses drinking in the aroma and essence of his emotions—terror, horror, desperation... all so tempting... so delicious... so... necessary.
Aubrey reached down to grip his collar and pull him closer. The scar-faced man moaned weakly as she drew near. She felt his breath—hot and damp on her cheek. Felt his eyes staring into hers, unblinking... full of dread.
With her free hand, she wiped away some of the blood on his face, revealing the long, deep claw marks across his features.
She touched the cuts gingerly, savoring his reaction, the way he shuddered and flinched with every trembling, quivering breath.
Then she leaned in and whispered softly, "Now, let's try this again... shall we?"
She watched as his pupils dilated, his eyes widening further, and his breath coming in short, shallow bursts. "S-spare me! P-please..." he begged, his voice cracking.
Aubrey licked her lips, a slow smile creeping across her face. "Can you tell me where I am?" The whispered words slipped from her lips by two layered voices—hers... and... another woman's that sounded eerily like her own—harmonizing together. It made her pause in surprise for a moment.
No. Not just any woman's. The dead girl's.
And from the shocked look in the scarred man's eyes, it was clear he had heard it, too.
"P-please... just let me go. I swear, I'll never tell anyone who or what you are," he pleaded, his voice quavering.
Aubrey ignored him, asking again, "Can you tell me where I am? I think I've lost my way." She took hold of his chin, forcing him to stare into her eyes. "I've... I've gone a little mad, I think... from grief... but I don't want any trouble."
The scarred man let out a gasp as she repeated the words from earlier, exactly as she had said them. Then he stammered through a series of unintelligible syllables and stutters before finally managing to utter, "T-the C-Caldecott Cemetery. O-outside of Mordenstradt..."
"Thank you. So nice of you to answer me..." Aubrey smiled gently, stroking his cheek with one finger. She tilted her head as she gazed at him. "I'm sorry for how... ugly... things have gotten tonight."
Aubrey relished in the rush of exhilaration as she fed off his emotions—as his despair and terror transformed into a subtle, pleasurable warmth that filled her.
Her other hand held a firm grip on the back of his neck. Her claws dug into his skin, piercing it easily and drawing fresh blood. She inhaled deeply, savoring the intoxicating smell, the salty-sweet tang of it tickling her nose and filling her mouth with drool.
"But sometimes... a girl just needs a good meal," she purred, and lowered her face to his. She extended her tongue, slipping it between her fangs and tasting the hot, metallic liquid that streamed down from the cuts in his forehead and cheeks. "Mmm..."
Aubrey drank his fear—drained every last drop of his despair. And once she'd sucked him dry, she leaned in close and whispered, "But don't worry—it will be over soon."
Aubrey drew his head back, exposing his throat. He tried to struggle, but he had no strength left, and his struggles proved futile. She placed her mouth against the soft skin just below his chin, opening her jaws wide. She sank her teeth deep into his flesh and tore out a chunk, spitting it aside.
Then she bit down again—and again.
Until his screams stopped and the body went limp in her arms.
She licked her lips with a satisfied sigh as she tossed the corpse away.
The three remaining graverobbers—well, two since she left one blind—screamed in terror after witnessing the gruesome scene, scrambling away from her as fast as their battered bodies could manage.
The aura of fear and panic that poured out from the three was as potent as it was succulent, sending a thrill through her body and urging her to follow in pursuit.
Aubrey sauntered towards the fleeing men, keeping them within reach of her senses, all the while humming a tune that mimicked the fading music in her head. Her long black hair fell about her shoulders in wild, tangled waves, framing her pale white skin with a tattered, crimson-streaked curtain.
♪ ♫ I’ve got a cup drained dry, and I’m raising a blade to you, ah-oh ♪ ♫
She trailed her fingertips lightly over the rough, weathered surface of the tombstones she passed.
♪ ♫ I’ve found a path of bones at the end of the moonlight too, ah-oh ♪ ♫
As she approached the short man, his terror hit a peak, prompting her to surge forward and pin his ankle to the ground with her foot. He let out a shrill cry and clawed desperately at the dirt, trying to drag himself away from her.
She giggled as she reached down, grasping the man's face with one hand and digging her long, claw-like nails into his scalp.
With her other hand, she caressed his throat with tender, loving care.
He screamed as she slowly dragged her fingers across his skin, slicing a deep, bloody gash from ear to ear. As his lifeblood spurted forth in gushing torrents, she consumed the terror pouring off him, reveling in its salty flavor until his death closed the door to its delights.
♪ ♫ Oo-oo, oo-oo, this is purgatory on a thorned stick ♪ ♫
Next came the bald man. His frantic attempt to crawl away from her ended with him trapped in a corner of the cemetery, hemmed in by a wall of graves and headstones. She caught up to him quickly, stepping on his back to stop him from squirming away any farther.
He choked out a wordless cry as she flipped him over onto his back. She crouched down on top of him, straddling his chest. He flailed about wildly, attempting to buck her off, but she held him firmly in place with ease.
♪ ♫ Oo-oo, oo-oo, life’s a bittersweet flick… ♪ ♫
With a casual, almost lazy motion, she brought her clawed fingers down across his face, slashing open a jagged wound across his nose and right cheek.
"Please... God..." he pleaded in a hoarse whisper. "P-please... don't..."
His pleas for mercy fell upon deaf ears as she continued to mutilate his features, leaving trails of bloody scars crisscrossing his face and neck while inhaling the fragrance of his terror.
Finally, she clamped her hands around his neck and squeezed, crushing his windpipe as she drained his fear. When the life faded from his eyes, she gave one last tug, breaking his neck with a sharp, brutal twist of her wrists.
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She stalked back to the blind raspy-voiced man who had collapsed to his knees with a sob. He covered his face with his hands and rocked back and forth.
"Oh god—oh please... have mercy! No more! I'm begging you... no more!" He broke down, his body convulsing as he wept uncontrollably.
Her soft footfalls must be like thunder to him, booming in his ears. And even though he couldn't see her, he trembled violently, knowing that she approached.
"P-p-please..."
She stepped closer, lowering herself and letting her hair fall forward, framing her face, so she could gaze at the weeping man. She then walked around behind him and laid a hand on his back, running her fingers gently up and down his spine. He jumped when her fingers reached the nape of his neck.
"No... no, no!" he shrieked. "D-don't! Don't do it!"
"Don't what?" she murmured innocently.
"D-don't... don't k-kill me!"
"Mmm... Why not?"
"Please!" he begged, turning to face her with tearful eyes. "I have a wife, a little girl—she's only three years old! My family—they need me!" He crawled closer, grasping at her dress as his hands searched for something to cling to.
His hands found her leg, gripping it tightly, pleading with her. His fear, desperation, and sorrow washed over her, and Aubrey relished it.
"They love me—my family—please..."
Her hands gripped his shoulders and pushed him back down into the dirt. She moved in and lowered her head so that her lips brushed against the shell of his ear as she whispered, "Shhh... it's okay... it'll all be over soon."
"NO!" he screamed in anguish, his voice raw and strained. "NOOOOOOOOOO!"
With one swift, smooth motion, she slashed his throat wide open, ending his miserable existence with a gurgling gasp.
Aubrey let out a long exhale as she rose to her feet. The soft notes of music played out in her mind, then faded away to silence. The effects of whatever trance had taken her over had evaporated, leaving her with a slight headache, but she felt energized in a strange, jittery manner.
She raised her arms towards the moon as if trying to embrace it.
Her skin was no longer deathly pale. Instead, she radiated with a rosy complexion, glowing in the moonlight. Blood splatter had stained her clothes and caked on her skin, but underneath it, the porcelain skin of a beautiful young woman still shone through.
She arched her back and stretched lazily, then grinned in delight at the sudden realization. She wasn't hungry anymore—at least, not for food.
"Ah... Now, that hit the spot. Heh." She laughed—a genuine, sincere laugh—the first since waking up in a grave.
It felt good to laugh again.
The fog of anger and hunger had cleared, and Aubrey felt lucid for the first time.
"Holy shit, did I... actually just kill four people?" Aubrey muttered, dumbfounded. Yet, oddly, she wasn't horrified. Well, maybe a little bit, yeah, but not in the way that normal people probably would've reacted.
Instead, she just felt a strange, detached indifference—like watching a particularly disturbing movie.
But still, her actions surprised her—how savagely she had behaved, without a shred of remorse or regret.
Sure, the graverobbers were complete assholes, no doubt—hell, worse than that—but still... killing someone should have left a bad taste, at least, shouldn't it?
Yet, the memory of ripping the scar-faced guy's throat out... didn't disturb her. Nor the sight of the blind-eyed, raspy-voiced guy, gurgling and drowning in his own blood...
Aubrey supposed it could have something to do with the banshee-thing, and the System-whatever...
Well, whatever. Aubrey shrugged. Can't say they didn't have it coming.
She shook her head, clearing her mind from the disturbing thoughts.
After a short period of self-reflection, she turned her gaze towards the city looming past the cemetery gates—a glittering sprawl of buildings and spires, lit up with an array of colored lights. From a distance, it looked pretty, even peaceful.
The faint scent of smoke, dust, and industry tickled her nose. That must be the place: Mordenstradt.
Aubrey grinned.
There was no point in feeling lost, confused, and scared anymore. She may not remember much of her previous life, but she sensed the echoes of her former self: an outgoing, optimistic, vibrant starlet with a reputation for defying authority—someone who refused to take any shit from anyone, especially not from people who deserved it.
Not that she wouldn't enjoy playing the helpless, innocent, lost little waif, if the situation called for it...
The other part of her who had lived here before—in this world—seemed to agree, albeit somewhat reluctantly. But the burning desire for vengeance... the rage... that emotion blazed brighter than ever, and that passion flowed through her, fuelling her resolve.
There were a lot of things she had to do. She needed to figure out why she had awakened in this world in the first place... then find the people who murdered her.
All the answers were out there... somewhere.
One way or another, Aubrey promised herself, She'd find the truth.
Suddenly, a message window popped into her peripheral view.
[You've acquired a small amount of experience]
[You have 4 unused Talent Points still remaining]
She raised her eyebrow, pondering the prompt.
So, killing and feeding on those scumbags had provided her some... experience points—something like a game mechanic? Well, if a system wanted to quantify and reward her kills, who was she to refuse the acknowledgment?
Hmm... Talent points. Well, since I'm starting a new life, maybe I should invest these somewhere useful. What are my options?
[There are six skill trees to choose from: Sonata Path, Rondo Route, Fugue Journey, Adagio Avenue, Allegro Street, and Ritmo Road.]
[Sonata Path: This skill tree is structured around the principles of a musical sonata, emphasizing balance, structure, and adaptability in combat. This path allows for a versatile approach, enabling practitioners to seamlessly switch between offense and defense, adapting their strategy to the flow of battle.]
[Fugue Journey: This skill tree is inspired by the complexity and interwoven melodies of a fugue, focusing on intricate, multi-layered skills that confuse and outmaneuver opponents. This path specializes in deception, agility, and strategic use of the battlefield to gain an advantage.]
[Rondo Route: This skill tree is designed around the principles of endurance and repetition, making it ideal for sustained engagements and battles against multiple foes. Skills are focused on durability, resource management, and the ability to maintain a consistent level of performance over long periods.]
[Ritmo Road: This skill tree offers a unique journey for those who perceive the underlying rhythm of combat, a path for tacticians who can read the ebb and flow of battle as easily as a conductor reads a score. Skills cultivated here enable a practitioner to disrupt, synchronize, and ultimately control the battlefield, turning the chaotic clamor into a harmonious symphony that plays to their tune.]
[Adagio Avenue: This skill tree is centered around the concept of control, emphasizing a patient, methodical approach, and strategic foresight. Skills developed here focus on turning the tide of battle through calculated defense, powerful counterattacks, and the ability to withstand onslaughts until the perfect moment for retaliation reveals itself.]
[Allegro Street: This skill tree beckons to the spirited and swift, those with the zest to dash into the fray and the agility to emerge unscathed. Skills developed here focus on mobility, the speed of strikes, and the ability to evade and dodge danger. Those who walk this path must not blink, and certainly not stutter.]
Wow, that's a lot... Where do I even start?
Aubrey scratched her head. It was overwhelming, having the choice of six different paths available. How could she decide which skill tree to pick, when they all sounded intriguing in their own ways?
After spending what seemed like hours examining each skill tree in detail, she managed to pick the four skills that spoke to her the most.
[Introit of the Valiant Heart (Sonata Path, Tier 1, Passive Skill): Enhances basic attacks with a rhythmic flow, increasing your speed and precision.]
[Cadence Amidst Counterpoints (Fugue Journey, Tier 1, Passive Skill): Increases evasion, allowing you to gracefully sidestep attacks, mirroring the counterpoint in a fugue where two melodies play off each other.]
[Staccato Step (Allegro Street, Tier 1, Passive Skill): Enhances agility, allowing for quick, short bursts of movement to close distances and evade attacks.]
[Shove of the Heartbeat's Force (Ritmo Road, Tier 1, Active Skill): A skill that creates a shockwave timed to the combat's rhythm, pushing back and damaging nearby enemies. Cooldown: 8 seconds.]
Those will do, for now.
"Well... it's time to get going.” She cracked her knuckles and stretched her neck.
With a jaunty step, Aubrey headed towards the wrought-iron gates that marked the entrance of the cemetery. She wondered if the gate would even open, or if the graverobbers had locked it from the outside... but with a bit of effort, she managed to shove them apart enough to slip through the gap.
Once on the other side, she glanced back one last time towards the mound of earth where she'd crawled out from. The grave bore no marker or sign—just a crude rectangle of disturbed soil.
Whoever had buried her there... it wasn't the one who killed her. She'd learned enough to understand that much.
Aubrey blew a kiss to the pile of dirt and grinned. She didn't know who put her in that grave—but she had a sneaking suspicion that she'd be meeting them again sooner or later. She'd make sure of that.
After a brief, melancholy moment, she turned and walked away, sauntering down the main road towards the city while humming a cheerful tune. Not exactly the song that she would belt out at a concert... but it was still appropriate enough.
♪ ♫ Oh, wa-Oh,
on the dark side,
oh, uh-Oh,
the dark side,
dum, de-dum, dum,
on the dark side,
oh, wa-Oh,
the dark side… ♪ ♫